


A Lost Love

by rochellemesser



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Army, Harry Styles - Freeform, Heartbreak, Loss, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Niall Horan - Freeform, Pain, Tears, Tragedy, War, narry drabble, narry fic, narry minific, narry oneshot, narry storan - Freeform, narry story, narry tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rochellemesser/pseuds/rochellemesser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tragedy affects everyone in different ways. When Harry learns of the devastating death of his soul mate, he’s convinced he’ll never recover. And he never does. But he promises himself that no matter what, he’ll never forget Niall. Love may be lost, but it’s never forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lost Love

Love is like a drug. It’s addicting and it makes you crazy. Just enough and it can make you blissfully happy. Too much, and it can send you spiralling into a world of depression and loneliness and pain. 

Love was something Harry had never thought he’d find. But love had found him, and made him happy, and he’d loved the feeling of being in love. He’d love it while it lasted. 

He found himself missing it now. Being in love and all of the feelings that came with it. He missed the kisses and the hugs and the late night movie dates. He even missed the fights. The stupid fights that often resulted in tears and hurtful words being thrown around, and always ended in forgiveness and whispered “I love you’s” and “I’ll never leave you’s”. 

But more than that, more than the feeling of being in love, he missed the person who he’s shared that love with. He missed his soul mate. He missed Niall. 

That day was still fresh in his mind. The day he’d had that love stolen from him.

+  
*Flashback*

He heard the unmistakable squeal of the kettle boiling, and he lunged off the couch, dropping his open book carelessly onto the coffee table and tripping over one of Niall’s abandoned sneakers in his haste to make the tea.

He couldn’t help but walk with an excited bounce as he made his way to the kitchen. His Niall was coming home today. Niall had been serving in the war for the past 18 months, and Harry had had no contact with him in that time. Except for Niall’s censored, ratty letters, and in no way could they compare to hearing Niall’s deep voice as he spoke with his Irish accent, or seeing his perfectly-sculptured face and feeling his liquid blue eyes boring into his.

A loud knock at the door startled Harry, and he jumped, wincing as the sudden movement caused the burning water to spill over his arm. He cursed a number of times under his breath, pulling an icepack from the freezer on his way to answer the door. 

He wasn’t expecting Niall back until later tonight, but he felt a bubble of hope build up inside of him at the prospect of seeing Niall now... right now... because he didn’t know how much longer he could stand not seeing Niall. Not holding him in his arms or peppering kisses over his face.

He was surprised at how nervous he suddenly was. This was the same Niall he’d loved since day one and could tell everything to, but what if he was different now?  
He hissed in a deep breath, not knowing what to expect, and suddenly pulled open the door, his teeth showing in a dimpled smile. 

The smile was immediately wiped off his face as he saw that it wasn’t Niall standing on the front step, but instead, a large, serious man in some kind of uniform.

“Are you Harry Styles?”

“I am”

“Boyfriend of Niall Horan?”

“Correct” 

“I regret to tell you this, but Mr Horan was fatally injured yesterday afternoon and passed away shortly thereafter. I’m so sorry...”

And suddenly, my whole world was collapsing around me. Everything that I lived for, everything that made me happy was gone, and honestly, I had nothing to live for anymore. Everything was gone. Everything was lost. Everything was broken. 

He was well aware of the officer that continued to stand at the door, and Harry could see his lips moving rapidly, but he couldn’t process anything that he was saying. He was numb. There was no pain, no anger, no nothing. He couldn’t feel anything.

His eyes were wide and watery as he quickly slammed the door on the man who had just shattered his whole life, and collapsed into a sobbing heap on the tiled floor. 

He lay there for hours, staring at the ceiling, staring at nothing, as the tears streamed down his broken face. His Niall was never coming home. He couldn’t recover from this. 

+  
Harry still hadn’t recovered. Almost 12 months later, and he still hadn’t made any progress. After he’d accepted that Niall was never coming home, he’d expected it to get better. For the pain to disappear, or at least to lessen. But it never did. He’d accepted early on that it never would. He’d accepted that he’d never kiss Niall again, never touch him again, never tell him how much he loved him again, and he wasn’t okay with that. How could anyone ever be okay with that? 

He’d begun to feel pain after a while. After the numbness, the nothingness, had faded, the pain had set in. And it was bad. It was the worst pain he’d ever experienced, and it just wouldn’t stop.

Whenever he thought of Niall, he’d feel pain. Whenever he looked at photos of Niall, he’d feel pain. Whenever he so much as ate one of Niall’s favourite foods, he’d feel pain. It was always there. That unbearable, never ending pain. Always in the back of his mind, no matter what he did. And there was always a constant ache in his chest. A constant ache in his heart.

But he’d never stopped loving Niall. He knew that he never would. Never could. Even though he knew that Niall was gone, he couldn’t stop loving him. It would feel like betraying Niall, and he could never do that, but more so, Niall had been such a beautiful, loving person, and Harry didn’t know if his heart, or what was left of it, could ever stop loving him. 

 

He’d tried counselling, he’d tried seeing psychologists and he’d tried drinking to take away the pain, but none had been successful, and he’d given up. Nothing was ever going to make him better. 

And he liked the pain. It was a reminder that Niall had been real, and that Harry had loved him enough that now he was gone, he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

In a way, the pain reminded Harry of Niall, and Harry would never allow himself to forget him. 

+  
Harry climbed into bed that night, late as always, and pulled the blankets up and over his body, shielding himself from the harsh winter air. 

He went to kiss the picture of Niall good night, the one of himself and Niall that always stayed on his bedside table, and was about to tell Niall that he loved him, that he would always love him, when he felt a presence beside him.

He rolled over to see Niall lying next to him, his blue eyes staring up at Harry.

“Sweet dreams, my Harry”

“I knew you’d come back to me”

“Of course, Harry. I’ll always come back to you”


End file.
